Heh, the irony of course is that Deleuze's work is so absurdly technical that you kinda need a decent grasp of exactly that history to really understand most of what he's saying. If anything, his collaborations with Guattari were something like his own self-therapy, with Guattari allowing him a way of doing philosophy without reference to the canon of which he was otherwise entirely steeped in. In any case I suspect Deleuze's comments are motivated more by his own 'anxiety of influence' than anything else.

Thanks for the comment. I've never studied him closely. I've picked up various books, browsed, and never really been stirred. I'd bet you're right about anxiety of influence (an important concept, along with "strong poet," with ties in D's apparent stressing of creativity.)

Seemingly related:

The speculative object and the practical object of philosophy as Naturalism, science and pleasure, coincide on this point: it is always a matter of denouncing the illusion, the false infinite, the infinity of religion and all of the theologico-erotic-oneiric myths in which it is expressed. To the question 'what is the use of philosophy?' the answer must be: what other object would have an interest in holding forth the image of a free man, and in denouncing all of the forces which need myth and troubled spirit in order to establish their power? — Deleuze

He says this and yet his "image of a free man" is stark-nakedly a central myth itself. I love this quote, and I'm invested myself in this idea of the radically free man or strong poet. But it's a myth or a compelling image that one shapes one's self after, like all the others, except that it's perhaps a final myth, the "creative nothing" or "hole in Being."( Stirner's book is a mess, but this same image of the free man is its beating heart.) I'm pretty committed to the idea that "spiritual urge" is always stirred and directed by usually unstable images of "the hero" or "the sacred." One idol is smashed in the name of the next. Until one acheives a sort of self-recognition as "pure negativity" or "poetic genius" (Blake) and "becomes the dragon."

We could describe philosophy from this perspective in a high, grand way as a place where radical freedom recognizes itself joyfully in the other. This would be the "true infinite" --the negation of everything finite as lacking in genuine or sacred being -- and Deleuze one more iconoclast in its name(-lessness). But demystification can only pretend to demystify itself (for it acts in the name of the idol it would crush) or forget to notice its own, burning, superstitious center.

Perhaps one thing to recognize is that the term 'image of thought' in Deleuze is not just an arbitrary poetic term, but a technical one; In Difference and Repetition Deleuze actually spends a whole chapter - what he elsewhere calls the central chapter of the book - defining what he means by the image of thought, which is determined by an adherence to thinking in terms of (1) identity, (2) analogy, (3) opposition, and (4) resemblance. Without getting into it, one only need to hear the specular, mirror-like resonance implicit in the idea of the 'image': so you're right that it's a matter of 'recognition' (as in - to recognize one's image in a mirror). To speak of an 'image of thought called philosophy' is the desire to feel one's (philosophical) writing 'mirrored' in the tradition, to appeal to that 'image' for recognition and continuity.

Even Deleuze's references to 'illusion, the false infinite and the infinity of religion' in your second quotation aren't just elements of an arbitrary list, and he elaborates on each of these things at length in his What Is Philosophy? (which I just started reading again a couple of days ago actually!). Irony abound!

Oh, I'd guess you're right about Deleuze. And I like patient conceptual analyses (I'm beginning an independent study in axiomatic set theory just today). But I wish you would have responded more to "radical freedom recognizes itself joyfully in the other." Still, this was nice:

To speak of an 'image of thought called philosophy' is the desire to feel one's (philosophical) writing 'mirrored' in the tradition, to appeal to that 'image' for recognition and continuity. — SX

My only problem with this is that the tradition isn't alive, so we still need actual other human beings to recognize and be recognized by, admittedly through a medium like philosophy, though I would stress that this is mixed in fact with one's exposure to literature, etc. I think there are a few explosive, central realizations (radical self-possession or freedom or instrumentalism) and then lots of footnotes to be read by the fire of these realizations. The tradition, having passed on the gift, loses its aura. It's an ethical/egoistic Copernican revolution. One loves a "great" thinker (assents to this reputed greatness) only when one detects their possession of "fire." Did they hear the "laughter of the gods"? Hell, do you hear the "laughter of the gods"? I ask earnestly, in a friendly spirit. Or do you have no idea what I'm getting at and why I think the "real" meaning of any dead man's quote is quite secondary?

Well it depends of course,on the potential philosopher's views on the importance of tradition.

If the person in question takes historical traditions in philosophy very seriously,then yeah,he would be reluctant to stray beyond the well-worn paths etched through the lands of thought by the ancients who travelled before him(sorry,felt like being poetic there).

However,on the flip side,if the person in question is adventurous in spirit and contemptuous of tradition,then this "power of history" that Deleuze refers to would have no effect on him and he would go on to discover original ways of thought.

If the person in question takes historical traditions in philosophy very seriously,then yeah,he would be reluctant to stray beyond the well-worn paths etched through the lands of thought by the ancients who travelled before him(sorry,felt like being poetic there).

However,on the flip side,if the person in question is adventurous in spirit and contemptuous of tradition,then this "power of history" that Deleuze refers to would have no effect on him and he would go on to discover original ways of thought. — hunterk

Please, be poetic all you like. Half the fun here is in the writing of an especially self-aware "poetry."

I have a great friendship with a guy who just doesn't get into "philosophy proper," and yet our idea of a good time is to drink 3 or 4 cups of coffee and walk around the neighborhood talking all night. It's "deep" conversation every time. That's how we roll. I paraphrase some of what I like in certain books in our 2-person dialect, and it's a great way to test for relevance. If one can't paraphrase for the non-initiated, then it's probably a technical issue, an optional issue, no more "sacred" than calculus. I respect technical issues. Math pays my bills. But there's a certain kind of philosophy that might as well be the fixing of air conditioners. And that's maybe the personality crisis of philosophy. Should we picture the philosopher in a lab coat? Or is he the wise man on the mountain? Or on the corner?

All you need, in order to be a philosopher, is to be, in Descartes's words, ''a thinking being''.

My own definition of philosophy (some might think this too broad), is any activity that employs thought.

This definition would then of course, encompass all of the people and activities you refer to, from air conditioning to mathematics, as long as these are done with conscious thought.

In short, the philosopher need not even be a human at all. A lone three-eyed, five-eared creature sprawled out on the surface of Mars contemplating the redness of the rock before him, would be just as much a philosopher as any wise man on earth.

If I understand this correctly, it's that Deleuze is concerned with the "canonization" of philosophers, and the subsequent assimilation of thought. Thus thought is constrained by the thought-idols of the past.

If this is true, I have to agree. In fact this kind of reasoning has been running through my mind a lot recently; although I get a lot of influence and inspiration from the philosophers of the past, I also feel the need to distinguish myself and have my own philosophy. I don't want to just be a philosopher-fanboy, an acolyte of one single person's ideas. Aristotle didn't have the Truth, nor did Aquinas, nor Descartes, Kant, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Heidegger, etc. They all had interpretative answers to an identified problem.

Thus I try to take a more hermeneutic approach, synthesizing the thought of many thinkers before into my own thought. I think the best method of doing this is by identifying the questions/problems that each thinker struggled with: for even if their answers are insufficient or incorrect, they at least identified an issue that must be dealt with. The answers change, the questions remain (unless you're Wittgenstein). If you limit yourself to the answers (the "story") without identifying the question structure, you essentially end up with an extremely narrow and blind view of reality, believing in an interpretation without understanding what the interpretation is of.

I guess you could call me a scavenger of some sorts. Systems inevitably get updated or replaced - philosophical systems are no different from the OS on your laptop. I like to take a look back at the previous versions, see how the current versions build upon them, and mod the hell out of my rig for my own preferences while adding my own personal touch.

All you need, in order to be a philosopher, is to be, in Descartes's words, ''a thinking being''.

Can we add desire and fear to the mix, too? A thinking being with fears and desires to drive his thinking. I think everyone is a at least a part-time philosopher. Is there a god? What happens when we die? What should I do? How can I know for sure? Can people who disagree both be right? Is life worth living? Is this or that sexual practice wrong? Is revenge wrong? Do words have exact meanings?
I'd personally narrow philosophy down to bigger and grander issues, just so the word has some punch to separate it from thinking in general.

If I understand this correctly, it's that Deleuze is concerned with the "canonization" of philosophers, and the subsequent assimilation of thought. Thus thought is constrained by the thought-idols of the past. — darthbarracuda

That's how I understand as well. (Of course the issue of what he "really" meant seems secondary to the exciting and independent theme of thought-idols constraining thought.

If this is true, I have to agree. In fact this kind of reasoning has been running through my mind a lot recently; although I get a lot of influence and inspiration from the philosophers of the past, I also feel the need to distinguish myself and have my own philosophy. I don't want to just be a philosopher-fanboy, an acolyte of one single person's ideas. Aristotle didn't have the Truth, nor did Aquinas, nor Descartes, Kant, Schopenhauer, Nietzsche, Heidegger, etc. — darthbarracuda

I relate completely. Harold Bloom's theory of the "anxiety of influence" is basically exactly this. We don't want to be imitations or acolytes or fanboys. To distinguish one's self and to have one's own philosophy is to be, in Bloom's terminology, a "strong poet." For me philosophy is deeply parricidal. It becomes conscious of and incorporates the very anxiety of influence that largely drives it. But, anyway, yeah, none of the old masters are sacred. They're dead and their world is dead --or at least radically transformed. And yet I, too, have been hugely influenced by some of them. Schop and Nietzsche were big figures for me. I can almost sum up what it is that I've think I've learned in "reading NIetzsche against Nietzsche" in order to sort the wheat from the chaff. Hegel via Kojeve was also a book that set me on fire. Then, of course, there's W. James, a man of style and heart.

Thus I try to take a more hermeneutic approach, synthesizing the thought of many thinkers before into my own thought. I think the best method of doing this is by identifying the questions/problems that each thinker struggled with: for even if their answers are insufficient or incorrect, they at least identified an issue that must be dealt with. The answers change, the questions remain (unless you're Wittgenstein). If you limit yourself to the answers (the "story") — darthbarracuda

Thus I try to take a more hermeneutic approach, synthesizing the thought of many thinkers before into my own thought. I think the best method of doing this is by identifying the questions/problems that each thinker struggled with: for even if their answers are insufficient or incorrect, they at least identified an issue that must be dealt with. The answers change, the questions remain (unless you're Wittgenstein). If you limit yourself to the answers (the "story") without identifying the question structure, you essentially end up with an extremely narrow and blind view of reality, believing in an interpretation without understanding what the interpretation is of.
I guess you could call me a scavenger of some sorts. Systems inevitably get updated or replaced - philosophical systems are no different from the OS on your laptop. I like to take a look back at the previous versions, see how the current versions build upon them, and mod the hell out of my rig for my own preferences while adding my own personal touch. — darthbarracuda

The focus on problems reminds me of Popper. If memory serves, he insisted philosophers be read in the context of the intellectual difficulties of their time. For me the questions that remain are first and foremost existential. Who should I be? That for me shapes almost everything else, because even the questions we concern ourselves with seem strongly related to the value we assign to that sort of questioning.
I can especially relate to the synthesizing theme. As I see it, we are never done rewriting our part, tweaking the system of maxims and insights and identifications that gets us through and (at best) allows us to be glad we were thrown into this world.

For me the sense of self-possession and "radical freedom" is central. Philosophy for me is something like a flaming sword against bluffs, cons, brow-beatings. It is ideological violence. We meet one another as friends, trading tools, (peer-to-peer) or we try to establish mastery without granting it to the other. There's the pop-psych book called Games People Play. I think the "transactional analysis" background of the book is pretty slick. We play the adult, the parent, or the child. All goes well in a transaction if the roles are compatible. This reminds me of Hegel's theme of recognition seeking.